One Head is Better Than None
by The Atomic Cafe
Summary: Nearly Headless Nick finds an answer to his Headless Hunt rejections. COMPLETE.


Harry, the fifteen year-old boy who lived, heard someone muttering to himself across the hallway. Sticking the letter he was about to give Hedwig to send off to Sirius, he marched around, trying to figure out who was talking. _Hopefully not Filch_, he thought for a moment.

"Hello?" he asked, glancing around what appeared to be an empty hall.

A head came out from inside a room and smiled. It was falling off the owner and was so pale Harry could see through it. Sir Nicholas, otherwise known as Nearly Headless Nick, floated out, sticking a letter into his own pocket.

"Hello, Harry." He glanced around the hall as if looking for someone. "You're just the person I was looking for."

"I was?" Harry asked, frowning and touching the letter in his pocket. _I'll really have to hurry after this. Sirius is expecting it soon._

Taking another glance around the hall, Nick nodded. Harry felt as though he had walked into something private. "Yes. Come in here, if you would be so kind."

"I really have to –" Harry started, but decided to follow anyway.

Inside the deserted classroom was a single desk and several books over it. Nick pointed to a few of them and used his other hand to bring the ruff around his neck up to properly secure his head.

"Harry, I think I've found the answer to this problem." As he spoke, he pulled the letter from his coat and flashed it in front of Harry. It was from the Headless Hunt.

From his second year at Hogwarts, Harry knew that early Headless Nick wanted to join the Headless Hunt. Every year, however, they would reject the ghost because his head was still – barely – attached to his body. Harry inwardly groaned.

Nick seemed not have noticed. "In this book –" he thrust a hand at it with a manic gleam in his ghostly eyes –"it says how to damage a ghost!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You want to be damaged?"

Nick shook his head, causing it to wobble on his neck. "No, Harry," he said, pushing it into place. "I want you to behead me!"

Harry stared blackly at Nick, seeing the wall behind him.

"And… how do I do that?" he asked cautiously, trying not to tread into the land of false promising.

"Here, it says that you just need to get something like an axe, kill it, and use its ghost to get my head off all the way."

"How do we kill an axe?"

_Oh no,_ Harry realized a second too late. _I said 'we'. Now I'm stuck in this._

Nick frowned. "That part got me stuck. Would you help me?"

He had a pleading expression on his face and Harry felt around for Sirius' letter in his pocket.

"Can I finish what I was doing first, at least?" he asked. Nick beamed.

Holding an axe in his hands that Nick had found somewhere – most likely with the help of Peeves, Harry glanced at the floor well below him. They were on top of the staircase and, after making sure no one would be under there, Nick motioned for Harry to drop it.

The axe fell several stories, landing on the ground in a heap of wood and metal. Nick smiled as he saw something that Harry could not see.

"Did it work?" he asked. Nick nodded and reached out to something. If Harry squinted enough, there was a faint line around the shape that the axe would have been in if it were whole. The color was paler than Nick himself.

Nick handed it to Harry, who reached out, but his fingers went through it. Frowning, the ghost muttered, "Look like I get to behead myself."

He glanced at Harry and smiled. "Thank you so much for this."

"Do you want any help or anything?" Harry asked, eyeing the faint outline. Nick nodded happily, another smile coming onto his face.

Within minutes, Harry was standing next to the ghost, watching at Nick held the axe over his own neck. He turned his head to Harry.

"Thank you so much," he repeated, starting to bring down the axe.

Harry started to flinch away but paused. "Stop!" he yelled. Nick stopped the axe an inch before it hit him.

"Are you sure you want to join them?" Harry asked, eyeing the axe for a moment. Nick brought the axe to a position next to him.

"Why?"

"Well, from what I've seen, they seem to be arrogant people – ghosts," he corrected himself.

Nick looked thoughtful. Harry was afraid that he would really shop off his own head, but instead the ghost tossed the axe to the side and sat up.

"You're right, Harry. I think having one head is better than having none _and _being an arrogant bugger who plays polo with heads."


End file.
